


Heart's Wisdom

by Finryl



Series: Mischief Managed - Never [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Thor (Movies)
Genre: After!Harry Potter, After!Thor, Helga is a sweeite, I write what I write, Loki Does What He Wants, Loki Needs a Hug, Multi, post!Avengers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 02:53:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3793981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finryl/pseuds/Finryl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Loki has fallen into the bifrost, Loki makes a small dream visit to an old Love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart's Wisdom

"No, Loki." Why had it meant so much to him? Two words, two syllables, six letters; why did it affect him so? He had known - had he not? - that he was never Thor, he could not please Odin, and that his efforts were in vain. So why - Why, he asks himself - did those words perish the little light of hope he had?

 

 

His knuckles had been white from gripping on to 'hope'. His eyes softened, watered and clouded by his blurring tears. He does not cry - does Loki cry? His fingers seemed to release itself hesitantly, as he peeled himself away. He could stand this, he could ignore this. He did not. He had to turn his back, he had to turn away, from Thor's anguished cries. Why had that fool continued to love one who sought to murder him?

 

 

"You're brooding again, Salazar."

Helga Hufflepuff would have hugged him, or perhaps slapped him for the fool he was; if she had not been a mere painting.

 

"I'm not brooding." Salazar - Also known as Loki, the infamous god of Mischief, lies and everything else one would have despised - replied dryly, lifting his head from his hands as he leaned into the wall of Helga's painting. Perhaps he wanted to attempt to touch his old, dying love. "Perhaps it is simply you who are being too cheery in a stormy day." Even as he said it, his smile was bitter when he looked at the glaring golden rays peeking from the tinted glass of the Hogwarts tower.

 

"Somehow, I find that 'stormy days' is a metaphor in your case." Helga replied, folding her hands in her lap as she sat in her yellow wool chair within her painting. "What ales you, dear Salazar?"

 

He would have wanted to touch her. But she was gone, and her life was a mere image within a painting. It was not even real, he was not even within the magical grounds of Midgard, and not within the stone walls of the castle built so long ago by his fellow founders.  _Magical Midgard. Oh, one would laugh at such words i they had not seen the potion-brewing race that Midgard Hosted._

"Ha... Dear Helga, why must you be so persistent when the truth would only do you harm," Loki wanted to say more, wanted to say more in his cold tone of voice that was so rarely released in the presence of her. "and wash away the little kindness in this world for me?"

 

 

He smiled a woebegone smile. What would come to him when he awoke? This was not lasting, Loki knew, and even with his heavy influence as Salazar Slytherin; the call of reality would numb him and chain him away again.

 

"Salazar, Salazar." Helga chided, her round face strained in a small smile playing at her lips as she bent to his height. "You were always one, to hide yourself away in your vast mind and thoughts, and wrap yourself in the dark corners of yourself." He wanted to protest to her words; he wanted to erase that remorseful smile from her cheerless face. No, he would not let her become so sad, it was not in her nature. "Know that you are loved, Salazar. Whether or not you come from a realm so different."

 

His head snapped to the her light, glazed eyes. "How do y-."

 

Warm hands engulfed his own. Small, but rough from many days of baking and cooking; the smell of freshly made bread and lavender laying heavily upon her. Helga kneeled in front of him, and she pressed his forehead against her own. "This is a dream, is it not?" Helga supplied, and her warmth chased away the Jottun cold. "Know that you are loved, Loki."

 

X

_In the darkness of my mind,_

_so little light you'll ever find._

_But she who holds my heart in place,_

_protects it all, in yellow grace._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> TO be continued~
> 
> Kudos <3


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